


Other than a Dreamer, I ain't Nothin' but a Drifter

by Starjargon



Series: I Belong Where You are [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avengers Family, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton-centric, Clint pukes when he's nervous, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Just let the man propose!, Marriage Proposal, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Romance, Steve Rogers Loves Chick Flicks, cliches, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starjargon/pseuds/Starjargon
Summary: 5 times the Avengers tried to help Clint and the proposal failed + 1 time the proposal went right.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: I Belong Where You are [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011306
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2020





	Other than a Dreamer, I ain't Nothin' but a Drifter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caitriona_3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/gifts).



> For Caitriona_3, who won it as part of the Charity Hawktion.  
> Beta'd by the very generous [Britt_pknapp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britt_pknapp/pseuds/Britt_pknapp). All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> CW- I should reiterate, there is puking as a plot device in this fic, if that turns you away from it. Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> Title from Christian Kane's "Let Me Go."

_Clint ran past Stark’s office assistant to grab the trash bin sitting near her feet, trying his best to face his back to her as he emptied his stomach._

_After a few minutes, he was able to get out, “Sorry, sometimes I puke when I’m nervous.”_

_The brunette simply raised an eyebrow as Clint returned to his commandeered bin. When he finally lifted his head again, instead of the usual look of horror and disgust he got from people when this happened, he was offered a cup of water, a breath mint, and a napkin. He met the assistant’s (beautiful) green eyes and matched her fondly amused smile with a slightly embarrassed one of his own, and that’s how it all began._

Now, a year and a half later, Clint still isn’t sure if he wants to come off Tony’s private security payroll to join “the Avengers Initiative” full-time. He’s not so sure that Nat’s boyfriend James, a recent addition to their super-heroing team and with whom she’s ridiculously infatuated, isn’t secretly some sort of Russian spy. He’s not sure if Thor is an alien, a god, or simply another science experiment gone… right. He doesn’t know if Bruce, with his vast knowledge and all his humble genius, isn’t more dangerous than his terrifying alter-ego. Nor is he sure that Steve didn’t throw their last sparring match to build up his confidence once he told his best friend his plans. But, he _is_ sure Darcy Lewis is the only woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

* * *

_1\. Tony- Scoreboard_

Tony suggests going all out. And when he claims he knows Darcy better than most because of all those years as her boss, Clint allows him to get them courtside seats, intending to have the Jumbotron light up with his proposal for all the world to see.

Unfortunately, at the same game, another couple’s proposal appears first, the bright “Will you marry me, Wanda?” lighting up the screen just as the camera pans over to a tense-looking blond man staring at a woman whose face suddenly lights up redder than her hair before she claps and turns, enthusiastically nodding her head and kissing him soundly. Darcy laughs in delight for the couple, and Clint’s hands start to sweat.

“Oh, that’s awesome!” Darcy exclaims excitedly, still staring at the large screen, before scrunching her nose. “Though, can you imagine how awful it’d’ve been if she’d said no?”

Suddenly, Clint springs out of his seat.

“I think there was something in those nachos that didn’t agree with me,” he musters and runs straight to the toilets. Darcy, the wonderful woman that she is, follows after him, fortunately missing the potentially humiliating message that is now lighting up the screen with her name as she waits anxiously for Clint’s stomach to settle.

* * *

_2\. Natasha- Ring in the Dessert_

He’s now lying on Nat’s couch, head on her shoulder while James uses the arm that he has wrapped around her to pat Clint’s head sympathetically while he moans the failure that was his intended proposal. Natasha pets Clint’s head once as well, then suggests a more intimate dinner, that way he’d have no crowds. Clint perks up at the idea, then asks if she and James will double with them to throw Darcy off the scent. While he’s once again pondering the best way to approach asking the love of his life to marry him, Natasha tells him to put the ring in a champagne flute or put it on top of her dessert. When both men raise their eyebrows at her unusual display of… sappiness, she simply shrugs with her chin held high (enough that Clint realises she’s refusing to feel embarrassed) and says she’d seen it in a film once and thought it seemed romantic.

James had used his connections to get them into one of the classiest restaurants in the city, and Clint had used the precious moments he’d had whilst the women were washing their hands to arrange things with the hostess. He pointed out their table and she gave him a big smile as she took the ring and went to the bar to make the preparations.

Now, it’s the end of dinner, and everything is going so well, and everyone had laughed so hard, and Darcy was always there with her quick wit and easy smiles, and Clint realises this is the perfect moment, with Tasha and her boyfriend looking on in support, to ask the most beautiful woman in the restaurant to be his wife. He signals the waiter and requests champagne for the table. The waiter gives him a knowing smile and brings out the drinks.

Clint wipes his sweaty hands and takes a deep breath, turning to his right as he hears Darcy give a delighted gasp. But when he looks at her, she’s got a wide, amazed grin on her face, staring across the table to Natasha, who is sat just to his left, holding a champagne flute. With _his_ engagement ring. Natasha’s eyes grow wide, and Clint starts to panic, when suddenly James is out of his seat, kneeling in front of Nat and… improvising both to save Clint and, he realises, to give Nat the dream proposal Clint would never deny his closest friend.

Darcy claps and squeals, congratulating the couple, and as Clint hugs Natasha, he sees her surreptitiously wipe a tear. He lifts her chin to look at her and tells her, sincerely, he’s happy for the two of them.

He meets James’ eyes and gives him a slight nod, calling the waiter for dessert and more champagne to toast the newly-engaged couple.

* * *

_3\. Bruce- Walk along the Beach_

Bruce suggests he do something simple, like a walk on the beach, and cut out all distractions or fancy displays.

So, now Clint is walking along the shoreline with Darcy, teasing her just to see her smile, and holding her hand because he gets that privilege, and he’s so happy he could burst. The sun is just starting its descent, and the beginnings of a beautiful sunset appear on the horizon. He thumbs the (new, slightly more expensive since James had felt bad commandeering the original) ring in his pocket, and takes a deep breath.

“So, Darce-“ he begins, then sees her mouth turn down into a frown.

“Do you think he’s okay?” she interrupts, motioning over to a small boy, alone and searching frantically around on the sand, with the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Both of them jog to the kid, and Darcy is quick to kneel in front of him and ask him if his mom or dad is close by. He nods and says his mom and stepdad are by one of the nets near the lifeguard towers, but he refuses to budge beyond that.

“I lost my ball,” he mumbles miserably, his voice thick with tears. “And it’s my special one my dad gave me when I saw him before summer,” then he loses his composure, fully sobbing now.

“What did it look like?” Clint asks, scanning the beach.

“I-i-it w-was a yellow and blue Sp-Spiderman ball,” the kid gets out incoherently.

Clint bends down, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, kid, it’s okay. Why don’t you let my friend Darcy here take you to your parents, and I’ll look for your ball? I promise I’m really good at finding things,” he says gently. He hands their beach bag (where he surreptitiously placed the ring in one of the inner pockets) over to Darcy as he encourages the child to find his mom. The boy wipes his nose on his wrist, then sniffles loudly, about to argue, until he blinks, and his eyes widen as he realises who he’s speaking to. He nods frantically, his little face crumbling again as he blubbers out an “O-okaaay.”

Clint sighs then starts scanning the beach. He jogs back and forth a few times, looking for a yellow ball. He spots it a little distance off, blown further down by the breeze that’s just starting to pick up. A ridiculously long chase after a wind-blown ball later, and he’s presenting his prize to a grinning child who just keeps shouting “ _Mamá, Mamá_ , Hawkeye found my ball!”

“I see that, _mijito_ ,” says a woman with the same wide smile as the little boy. Darcy is grinning fondly at Clint, engrossed with the small family and, judging by the mobile in her hand, taking embarrassing photos and videos of Clint trying to outrun the ocean breeze in pursuit of a bouncy ball.

The mother introduces herself as Fabiola and asks Clint and Darcy to join them for dinner in gratitude. She then introduces her husband as Raul and her son as Miguel. When he accepts, Darcy is quick to look up at Clint with a teasing smile, ostentatiously putting her phone away as she makes room on the large blanket for him, patting it innocently.

Clint feels sweaty and has sand in inconvenient places, so he doesn’t feel too bad when he holds out a single finger, moves away from the food and family, and gives himself a good shake to rid himself of a few layers of sand and salt. Then, he rushes at his traitorous girlfriend, quickly pulling her phone out of her pockets and her glasses carefully off her face, tossing both to their blanket before throwing her over his shoulder as he marches her, kicking and shrieking with laughter, straight into the ocean.

When they’ve dried off, and Raul has started a bonfire, and their bellies are full of delicious food, Darcy leans back against Clint, listening to Miguel as he animatedly replays his own versions of Avengers’ missions to everyone (few of which were as exciting as the little boy seems to believe). Clint sighs happily, placing a kiss in Darcy’s hair, the ring once more securely in his pocket, and he can’t bring himself to feel disappointed.

* * *

_4\. Thor- Fireworks_

By now all the Avengers have cottoned on to Clint’s plans, and to say Thor is excited is an understatement. He and Jane have joined in helping Clint craft the “perfect way to ask for fair Darcy’s hand.” With a bit of help from Tony, combined with Thor’s… abilities, Clint is confident his proposal will be a night to remember.

They’re at a (conveniently timed) party “for the Avengers” at Stark Tower, and Thor and Tony have invited everyone out to the large balcony, ostensibly to watch them outdo each other with fireworks, laser blasts, and lighting up the night.

Darcy is laughing in wonder along with Jane, whose job it is to keep Darcy’s attention skyward as Clint once more reaches for the ring in his pocket, prepared for the exact moment after he’s signalled the genius and Thunderer to spell out “Marry Me, Darcy Lewis” in a blaze of light and bursts of colour. But suddenly the night grows freezing, and the winds blow all traces of fireworks away.

Clint sends Darcy inside with Jane as he and the other of the Avengers spend the rest of the night fighting off several Frost Giants, the Enchantress, and Loki, who, they later learn, had taken Thor and Iron Man’s show of power as some sort of call and challenge.

Finally, when they’re all exhausted, Clint quips he’ll accept the full-time Avenging gig, and slinks past the only-slightly-bruised-up Stark. After dejectedly calling to check Darcy and Jane had made it safely to Jane’s lodgings (a one-bedroom apartment in the Baxter Building), he screams his frustration into a pillow someone (probably Nat) had slid under his head when he’d thrown himself heavily onto the closest intact-sofa.

Loki deserved far more than the ink-splattering temporary-blinding arrows Clint had used that had finally incapacitated him. Steve slumped on the floor in front of him, patting him on the back in disappointed solidarity.

* * *

_5\. Steve- Horse-drawn Carriage Ride_

Clint and James had only made the mistake _once_ of attending a boys’ night with Steve, Sam, and Scott. They’d expected a game night, or perhaps junk food and drinks and trying again to budge Thor’s hammer, or other feats of strength when a bunch of men who routinely saved the world hung out. The reality was… definitely not that. By the third chick-flick, Steve was hugging a cushion tightly to himself, eyes red-rimmed, Sam was on his second bowl of ice cream, trying not to sniffle, and Scott was halfway through a box of tissues. James and Clint exchanged looks, then once again glanced around at the superheroes around them. Later, after Darcy was finally able to stop laughing at the image of Captain America, Ant-Man, and the Falcon cheering on Elle Woods, cracking up during the Nanny Diaries, and getting very sassy with Cher in Clueless, Clint was able to ask his still-giggling girlfriend if she’d seen a film called “The Notebook,” and if it had made her cry as it had done them.

So Steve, being an utter romantic when it suited him, and the biggest expert Clint knew on trying to woo people by virtue of his vast knowledge of romance films (and fortunately still getting advice from the far-wiser than he could ever hope to be Peggy), became Clint’s next desperate source to turn to for ideas for the perfect proposal to the woman of his dreams.

It turns out that Steve had _definite_ ideas. Clint ruled out a flash mob because Darcy would be more inclined to pepper spray the first person to jump in her face (atta girl, he thought proudly). He was _done_ causing any more commotions in the sky, so skywriting, especially by a pilot whose biggest claim to aeronautic fame was _crashing,_ was also out. But he did like the idea of a carriage ride through the park, ending in a proposal on top of a bridge near a small waterfall.

The night of, Clint asked Steve to monitor the area for any incoming threats and had Spiderman and Ant-Man canvass the path for any would-be villains who might ruin his night. Natasha (with James) and Bruce were on civilian duty, just in case another kid with a lost balloon needed a superhero. Thor was on weather control, and Tony was in charge of clearing the region of any other not-Clint and Darcy proposals. And now, he was ready. He’d prepared for every possibility, and nothing would stand in the way of _finally_ asking Darcy to marry him.

She was absolutely stunning when he picked her up, her hair down in loose curls, wearing a skirt and actual heels, since he told her he’d planned a special date for them tonight. He smiled, hoping everything would go exactly as planned, for once. When she accepted his hand into the carriage, she looked at him a little… woozily.

“Everything all right?” he prompted.

She gave him a shaky smile.

“Allergies,” she said, a bit stuffy, but her smile remained wide. “Don’t worry about it.”

He looked her over carefully, but she just reached out and pulled him in after her, cuddling his side as the carriage took off.

“This is nice,” she said, looking around at the scenery, burrowing further into Clint’s arms.

“Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing her slightly more to himself. They were nearly to the waterfall now, and he took a deep breath in anticipation. She rubbed her head against him again, and that’s when he realised just how warm she was.

“Darce. You sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, putting his hand against her forehead, feeling far too much heat.

She looked up at him, bleary gaze finally landing on his face. Then she turned to the side and started coughing like it was a competition and she was determined to bring in the gold.

“I’m so sorry, Clint. I thought maybe it was a cold, even,” she moaned, sounding so disappointed Clint had no choice but to wrap his arms around her as tightly as he dared, trying to comfort her away from any sense of guilt she might feel.

“Don’t worry about it, Hon.” He assured, his concern for her overriding any other thought.

“But you planned such a nice date for us!” Darcy protested before her lungs made a second attempt to expel all air from her body.

“Well, if I take you home and tuck you in and feed you chicken noodle soup and make sure you rest, we’ll still be having a great date together.”

“ _Clint_ ,” she objected.

“ _Darcy_ ,” he shot back, taking his coat off and wrapping it around her. “Come on. Let me take care of you.”

She looked up into his eyes, then seemed to resign herself, burrowing into his side once more as they turned around at the bridge and went back to her apartment.

* * *

_1._

After five failed proposal attempts (well, four, if the legitimate invitation he’d gotten to Nat and James’ wedding was any indication), Clint decided he didn’t have any more energy or hope for _extra_ romantic. At this point, he just wanted the quickest, easiest way to say, “Darcy, will you marry me?” without anyone else proposing, or the world ending, or people getting sick, or any interruptions. He was at his wits’ end, and he just wanted Darcy to be his wife.

So, he stopped asking for advice and decided the best way to get engaged was just to get it over with, no bells, no frills, no lights. None of that was _them_ anyway. So, now he and Darcy sat on the roof of his apartment building eating pizza and drinking large cups of fizzy sugar drinks, looking up at the stars as they sat on a picnic blanket he’d brought out. Clint did have the good sense to decorate the roof with twinkle lights and space heaters, but now, this was it. He thumbed the box with the ring as he discreetly took it from his pocket, setting it next to the pizza box as Darcy was laughing at a silly joke he made, and he just knew, without a doubt, _this_ was the moment.

“Hey, Darcy, Hon,” he began, and she levelled that beautiful, soft gaze his way, giving him her full attention. Clint tried to remember any of the flowery things he had prepared to say, then forged ahead, “so listen. You’re the best thing-“ he got out before his nerves got the best of him and he broke out in a cold sweat, and before he could argue with his body, he was dropping the box with the ring and running to the garbage bin at the corner of the roof, emptying his stomach and ruining everything.

Humiliation burned even more harshly than anything else in his gut, and he laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath and recover from this horrible night.

He looked up at the hand that softly touched his other elbow to see Darcy’s sweet smile, her bright green eyes forgiving and a look on her face that was so fond it hurt. She brushed the hair back from his forehead, offering him, once again, a cup of water, a breath mint, and a napkin. Clint could have wept from shame at once more destroying any chance he’d had of any type of proposal toward the perfect woman now lovingly stroking his face.

“Hey, Clint,” Darcy spoke suddenly, as he clutched pathetically to his trash bin, still breathing heavily, “have I ever told you I hate the sound of vomiting?”

He turned his face back into his arm, willing angry tears to stay away as he groaned in misery, shaking his head and moaning until Darcy’s soft hand in his hair turned his eyes back to meet hers. There was a sly twist to her mouth and sympathy in her gaze.

“Always have,” she continued. “Even in movies. I _hate_ it. But, it’s never really bothered me when you do it. Well- not like with everyone else.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and she shrugged coyly. “I mean, I think it’s kind of adorable. Especially since, you know, you’re _Clint Barton. Hawkeye._ One of “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes,’” she teased, and he could _hear_ the quotation marks. “And yet, you’ll spend almost half an hour chasing down the cheap bouncy-ball of a little boy you’ve never met before just because he’s sad. You remember my favourite basketball team and get me courtside seats, even though you _hate_ basketball. You casually save the city, _again_ , then worry immediately whether or not _I_ _got home_ safe. You’ll spend all night watching ridiculous movies with Steve without mocking him even if you can’t understand his obsession with chick-flicks, (no one but Sam and Scott can either, to be fair) and feel so genuinely happy for Nat when her boyfriend finally makes a commitment that you buy ridiculously overpriced champagne and dessert at an expensive restaurant, just to celebrate with them.” He’s still staring into the deep green eyes he’d first fallen in love with over a year ago, and he feels his own watering in complete humility, honour, and wonder that this… incredible, witty, _beautiful_ woman sees him this way. “And even when I ruin our fancy carriage date by hackin’ my lungs up, instead of getting upset or even disappointed, you stay with me for two days just to feed me soup and listen to me blow my disgusting runny nose and keep changing cloths on my head until my fever goes down and- _Clint_ , I want to spend the rest of my life listening to you vomit.” She suddenly clasps a hand over her mouth, realising how utterly… _terrible_ that sounded, even as it’s startled a chuckle deep in Clint’s gut. “I _mean,_ ” she corrects when the laughter spills out of him, “I mean, I would really, I mean, if you want to, I really want to marry you, Clint Barton. If that’s, you know, something, you’d want, with me. Someday,” she finishes feebly.

And, because Clint _absolutely refuses_ to propose to the love of his life clutching a trash bin, he stands up, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to his pizza box, where he kneels down and picks up his ring. She claps a hand over her mouth once more, her eyes darting from the box in his hand to his face to the bin she had just realised _why_ he needed and back to his face, her breath catching in her throat as she stares at him, stunned.

“Darcy,” Clint starts, and suddenly he knows _exactly_ the words he wants to say, “you plug your ears every time you hear the sound of vomiting, but still stand next to me any time I’m doin’ it, and never make me feel bad. You miss an entire quarter of courtside seats with your favourite team playin’ just to make sure I’m okay. You rush to check on a little boy you’ve never met, simply because your big heart can’t stand to see people in need. Your first thought when our city is under attack is to drag your friend to safety because you’re not sure she’ll protect herself. You give Steve suggestions on more films to watch even if you don’t understand his need to watch them, and you spend all night celebrating my best friend’s engagement just because you’re that giving and generous. You try to power through a truly horrendous flu just to try to avoid ruining a fancy date I planned and, Darcy Lewis, _yes_ , I very, very much _do_ want to marry you.” He opens the box he’s carried around for _far_ longer than he’d thought, and the woman of his dreams throws her arms around his neck, kissing him with gusto between a mixture of laughter and overwhelmed tears.

“So, other than the whole _nervous vomiting_ thing, was this what you imagined when you thought about proposing?” Darcy asks a while later when they’re lying side by side facing opposite directions, staring up at the stars, and she’s once again admiring the ring on her finger.

Clint closes his eyes, remembering every other failed attempts over the past few months and chuckles to himself, before reaching up and lacing their fingers together, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss before laying their joint hands over his chest.

“Yeah,” he answers at last. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine anything better.”


End file.
